


Cigarettes after sex

by BlueDisquiet



Series: Twitter Short Stories [5]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Friends With Benefits, M/M, Mutual Pining, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-09 07:16:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27149959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueDisquiet/pseuds/BlueDisquiet
Summary: They hadtworules:Only one cigaretteDon't fall in loveTonight, they break both.
Relationships: Suna Rintarou/Tsukishima Kei
Series: Twitter Short Stories [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1915537
Comments: 4
Kudos: 66





	Cigarettes after sex

**Author's Note:**

> this was inspired by Dee's post on twt.

Kei gets up from the bed with a slight wince and walks to the en-suite in the room they (he) rented for the night. He doesn’t have to spare a glance at the man currently lying on the bed to know he’s watching him. 

Kei is certain he knows something is unusual tonight but he’s still a bit too dazed with the remnants of his orgasm to speak up. 

He closes the door behind him and splashes some water on his face before glancing up at his reflection on the mirror. He came to tonight with a plan in mind so he forces himself to go through it again before doubt takes over and that familiar fog stints his brain. 

It’s been two years since they’ve met through mutual friends, two years of hooking up on a weekly basis, and Kei…

Kei hates him. 

Not because he’s bad or anything. No, Kei hates him because of how unaffected he seems to be, how put together, how detached… as if nothing about what they are doing means anything to him. But above all, Kei hates how he’s always on his mind, how he can’t stop thinking about the what-if’s and what-could-be’s. 

Kei hates him because he’s in love with him.

And it’s unfair. 

Because it was his idea, his _rule_ , to keep feelings out of the “bedroom”. That this was just an arrangement to “blow off some steam”. And yet.... 

And yet... 

Here he is, two years later, in love and complaining about the lack of reciprocation. Kei isn’t pretentious enough to not recognize his own hypocrisy. 

He knows Suna doesn’t see him as anything more than a fuck-buddy, that much is clear, seeing how it’s always him who initiates contact, always him who plans their “nightly escapades”. 

Always him who wakes up in the morning to an empty bed. 

He doesn’t remember when it happened, when he broke the one of the two rules he set for himself, for both of them. 

At first he tells himself it’s enough. That at least having a little bit of Suna is enough. If he can't have his heart, at least he could have him in bed.

But that was almost two years ago, and now, it’s not enough anymore. And because it’s not enough anymore, he tells himself to end it. Because surely it’s better to stay away than to confess his feelings. Because Kei is a coward. Because Kei fell in love. 

_Better to rip it off like a band-aid and get it over with_ , he thinks. 

So he takes a deep breath and after a beat of hesitation, he turns back to the room.

Tonight is when it ends.

☁️🌙☁️

Suna screws his eyes shut, as he struggles to catch his breath. His back is sweaty and is sticking to the sheet from all the “excursion” of the past couple of hours. Being a pro-volleyball player with a pro-volleyball partner meant endless stamina. 

But then again, was Tsukishima really his partner? 

As he lies there, watching the man excuse himself to the bathroom, he swings an arm over his eyes and swallows. This is the third call he got this week and it was only Wednesday. He doesn’t know what to think. 

He knew Tsukishima was going through something, but he doesn’t know how to approach it, how to help considering that most of their encounters only involved fucking each other’s brains out. 

And smoking. 

It wasn’t like they only met for sex, of course. They both play in the same league and they run in the same circle of friends so they’re almost always meeting. But in the past couple of weeks, things between them felt weird, and no amount of sex loosened Tsukishima’s tense shoulders (nor his lips for that matter). It was just agonizing to watch. 

He sighs loudly, leaves the bed, and reaches for the pack of cigarettes he tucked in his duffel bag before walking over to the balcony and stepping out. 

The cold night air licks at his face, spreading goosebumps across his exposed skin. He inhales deeply, lights a cigarette and waits. 

Tonight, he plans on telling Tsukishima exactly what he feels about their arrangement, or rather what he feels for him. 

He gets to enjoy maybe three or four drags of his cigarette before he hears the sound of the bathroom door open and the pattering of bare feet on the wooden floor. 

“I see you started without me.” Tsukishima says, nodding his head towards the lit cigarette between his fingers. 

Right. That was their thing. Ever since this whole… ”arrangement” started, they had this ritual of sharing a cigarette after sex. Sometimes, it would be them passing it around, each taking a turn at inhaling the poisonous smoke before handing it back to the other. 

Other times, when either (or both) of them still desired more physical intimacy, wanted more sex, but refused to admit it out loud, they would kiss the smoke from each other’s mouths, until they fall back on the bed again for another round. 

Just one cigarette, though. That was the rule. Just enough to scratch the itch but not too much to become a burden. Both of them were pro-athletes, after all, and had to watch their health. 

There was another rule. The most important rule that they were not meant to break. But he refuses to think about that now. Instead, he glances at Tsukishima from the corner of his eyes. 

“Yeah well, I got tired of waiting.” The words escape before Suna has a chance to swallow them down. They flow out, sharp and accusing, with an underlying bitterness even he can’t ignore. 

He doesn’t miss the flicker of hurt that flashes behind Tsukishima’s eyes, now fully visible without his glasses. 

“I — yeah I get it.” He says after a moment of tense silence. “Can I at least have a turn before you smoke it all?”

Suna nods and offers him the remainder of the cigarette, before turning back to look at the city beyond the railing of the small balcony. 

They stand like this in comfortable silence for a while, then his slit eyes shift back to Tsukishima’s face, down to his neck where a hickey is blooming, and then to where his fingers are currently wrapped around the stub as he pulls the cigarette away from his lips.

Suna doesn’t fail to notice the nervous wrinkle forming on his forehead and the way he chews on his lower lip, further confirming his previous suspensions. 

Suna clears his throat, “You okay?” He risks.

“Why wouldn’t I be.” He replies with a snort and Suna can hear the sarcasm dripping from his voice. 

“It’s just that you seem distracted. Tense. You called me three times this week.” He says simply, hoping his concern for the other doesn’t come off as too prying.

Tsukishima sighs and flicks the ashes outside into the night air before turning to look at him. 

“I’m okay. Just stressed. You know,” He gestures vaguely before continuing, “School. Graduation. Work. Volleyball.”

“I don’t know, actually.”

He doesn’t know. Not really. It’s not their thing to talk about life outside the bedroom. Not like the cigarette. Not like the sex. 

“You’d know if you bothered to ask.” Tsukishima snaps at him quickly. But then his brain catches up with his mouth and he turns back to stare at him with wide eyes. He looks like he’s about to backtrack, to say something but Suna interrupts him. 

“It’s fine. You’re right. It’s not our thing. It’s not what we do, so don’t worry about it. I’ll uh — just go.”

Suna’s chest feels heavy. Like it’s about to cave in on itself, the pressure inside it threatening to crack his ribs one at a time. He was supposed to be asking him out on a date, to take their relationship to the next level. Because he wants a relationship with him. More than sex, more than one cigarette. Or at least that was the plan, anyways.

But then Tsukishima's face falls and he breathes a dry, humorless laugh, the cigarette between his fingers has long since burned out. 

“I knew it. You never really cared to know. You don't give a single fuck about any of this. About me.” He shakes his head.

Wait, what?

Suna is too stunned to say or do anything. He watches as Tsukishima rushes back into the room, hurriedly picking up his discarded clothes from the floor, before putting them on with shaky hands. 

Did he just imply that Suna doesn’t care about him? What the hell? 

Suna all but wanted to kiss the ground he walked on and that absolute idiot thought he didn't care?

Suna was angry all of a sudden. He snapped out of his initial shock, grabbed Tsukishima’s shoulders and spun him around, forcing their gazes together. 

“You big stupid idiot. I like you. _Like_ like you. As in, I’m one breath away from falling in love with you.” He practically screams at him. “I was actually planning on asking you out on a date tonight, but then you ran to the bathroom to hide, and when you came out, you were all brooding and emo and had this ’woe-is-me’ kinda look and I didn’t know what to think!”

Tsukishima pouted and his brows furrowed. His reaction to Suna's words is entirely unexpected of someone who has just been confessed to.

“Hey! You're the one who was like 'I'm tired of waiting'," he said in a mocking voice, "Oh and by the way, I don’t brood!”

“That’s what you chose to focus on. God, Tsukishima Kei you’re killing me.” 

Then Suna cradles his face and crushes their lips together with a heady spark of long-overdue passion, his other hand twisted into his light fluffy hair. They have kissed countless times before, but this is the first time Tsukishima kisses him like he’s thought about a lot more than just kissing, about more than just sex, so he pulls him closer until their bare chests are flushed, and their lips coming together over and over and over again. 

He doesn’t know how much time has passed before Tsukishima pulls away, his chest heaving as he struggles for air, his lips red and bruised, and his gold pupils blown wide with a hungry look. Suna assumes, no he _knows_ , he looks just about the same, if not a bit more wrecked. 

“You know,” the blond starts, breathless and still wrapped tightly in Suna's arms, “I was planning on ending this arrangement with you tonight.”

"Wait, Really? But why?" Suna asks with a raised eyebrow.

“I kinda fell in love with you, too.” He admitted, his eyes were slowly drifting down to Suna’s wet lips. “I fell in love and I was scared. I thought it would be easier if we just stopped being around each other.”

“My god, for all your perception and intelligence, you can be so oblivious sometimes.” Suna says, focusing instead on the feeling of Tsukishima’s body pressed against him. 

“What does that even mean?” Tsukishima rolls his eyes at him, and he can’t help but lean forward to kiss him softly.

“It means, every time I walk away from you is the hardest thing I have to do.” He says against his lips.

The other man just huffs a small laugh, shifting on his bare feet to plant a kiss on Suna’s nose. “Let’s smoke another. And you can tell me about that date you plan to take me out on.”

He snorts, “We broke one rule tonight so might as well break the other, huh?” He says, but he’s already pulling him back towards the balcony, and entwining their fingers together. 

This is the first time they smoked two cigarettes at once, but the night is young and the packet is still half-full. Who knows what might happen next.

**Author's Note:**

> that line at the end was inspired by a fic i read a long time ago but forgot the name. if you recognize it, lemme know so I can credit the author properly. 
> 
> My twt: myraoiyama uwu


End file.
